DethGuardian
by A Girl Named Max
Summary: Dethklok meets a metal demigod known as the Guardian of Metal. He may be a bit weird, maybe slightly insane, but he's their only hope against a new enemy hell-bent on stopping the Metalocalypse... no matter what the cost.
1. Chapter 1

It was a great night for the newly-opened Grand Arena. Metal superstars Dethklok were playing there that night, and the arena was packed. Everything was going as planned. And not only was it a great night for the Grand Arena, it was also a great night for a particular man in the crowd. He had been to so many metal concerts he'd lost count of them all, but none quite like this. The man was in hog heaven. Everything was going as planned. And then a nine-foot-tall, four-legged, pure white creature appeared. It had the mane of a lion, the head of a bull, the teeth of an anglerfish, and body of a lion, and a long, prehensile tail with spikes on the then all Hell broke swung its tail and demolished Pickles' drums, then roared at Nathan Explosion. The man in the crowd swore as Klokateers rushed onto the stage, only to be mauled by its claws, teeth and tail. The man in the crow knew there was only one thing to do. He summoned his wings. And not just wings, either. They were huge, skeletal dragon wings with massive chrome spikes. And instead of any sort of membrane, these wings had blazing mystical fire. The man in the crowd took off toward the stage. The creature looked up and snarled like a rabid dog. The man landed on the stage and the crowd cheered. They all thought it was part of the show. The man knew extended his pinkie and index fingers, and from his hand shot a bolt of lightning, hitting its flank, burning it. It shrieked in pain and charged the man. As it neared him, he flew onto its back and unleashed a long burst of lightning into the back of hit head. The beast shrieked and toppled over, twitching. Dethklok looked from the beast to the man. The man wore a long back robe and several rings and necklaces. He had long, dark hair, very pale skin, and his eyes were concealed by round, wire-rimmed sunglasses. He looked basically like Ozzy fire from his wings went out, and the bones vanished in a flash of light."Is it dead?" Pickles asked nervously."No. I need a big, sharp object. Gotta cut off its head before it gets up," he said. He had a thick accent—not only did he look like Ozzy Osbourne, he spoke like him too."You're gonna cut off its head? Brutal," said Nathan. "You heard the man!" said Pickles to a surviving Klokateer, "Get this guy a big, sharp ahbject."The Klokateer returned with a meat cleaver."Yeah!" said the man, That's perfect!"He took the meat cleaver and began hacking at the beast's neck."Who ARE you? Schome kind monschter killer guy?" asked Murderface."Please tells me you's Ozzy Osbourne!" said Toki."I'm Ozwald Skul, the Guardian of Metal," He said, continuing to hack at the thing."So…Whats am de t'ing you are choppings off de head?" sked Skwisgaar."A corocotta. Bred to kill.""Bred to kill by who?" asked Nathan."Considering they sent it, I'd say you're about to find out."


	2. Chapter 2

"As you can see," said Senator Stampings ton, "Dethklok has met a two thousand-year-old demigod known as the guardian of Metal."

The Guardian of Metal's image was displayed on the large screen behind Senator Stampingston.

"His powers that we know of are command of lightning and fire, the ability to create portals, flight, a knack for weaponizing vehicles, great agility, mastery of hand-to-hand combat…and immortality."

"Hold on, said General Crozier,"You mean to say that this man can't be killed?"

"oh, he can be killed," Stampingston said, "He just doesn't stay dead. He rises like a phoenix."

"Good Lord…" Said the General.

"But there's hope. Our allies, the Demonslayers, have decided to make their move. They sent a corocotta to deal with Dethklok."

"And I presume they failed?"

"Yes, they did. The Guardian of Metal made sure of that. Knowing the Demonslayers, though, they will continue the assault until Dethklok has been neutralized."

"So? What do we do? Do we wet them continue?"

"Yes," rasped Selatcia, "We let them continue. The time has come."

Back at Mordhaus, the Guardian of Metal had just finished explaining the origins of the corocotta to Dethklok.

"Let me get this straight," said Pickles, "There's a pretty much ahll-powerful arm of holier-than-thou Christian crazies coming to kill us?"

"Yes."

"I'll believe it when I schee it," said Murderface, crossing his arms.

"Okay then, explain to me where that corocotta came from."

"He's got a point," rumbled Nathan.

Charles Offdensen shook his head in amazement.

"Wow. Just…wow. I mean, we've had attacks on our lives before, but never on this scale… ad never with such force…"

"It's what they do best," said the Guardian grimly, "They come to your world and go all out. They've taken over so many worlds they've now got millions and millions of young men ready to kill for their god. It's sad, really. They came to my world, too, y'know. We were lucky. We had enough power to get rid of them…"

"What does you means, 'my world'?" asked Toki.

"Are you a schpasche alien?"

The entire band looked at Murderface.

"Aliens?" snickered Pickles.

"Schut up I don't believe in aliensch!"

"So…wheres do you comes from, den?" asked Skwisgaar.

"I come from an alternate dimension classed Metal-Earthy. It's basically an entire world of metal."

"What's it like? Asked Nathan.

"Best *guitar*-ing place of all time. S'beautiful…giant sword-monoliths comin' out of the ground, jungle waterfalls shaped like skills, animals with big metal spikes comin' out of 'em, the Temple of Orunagoden, which is a big temple on top of a mountain of bones…and the Motor Forge. That's where I live. It's a system of magma caverns full of some of the most dangerous artifacts in my world."

"Hang on….did you say there's a temple on top of a MOUNTAIN OF BONES?" said Nathan.

"Yes, a temple to a flaming chrome beast called Ormagoden, who created metal."

"That could possibly be one of THE most brutal things. Ever."

The door opened and in came Jean-Pierre, Dethklok's undead chef. He held out a platter and bowed.

"Your corocotta filets, my lords," he said.

The Guardian grinned.

"Nothing says *guitar* you, Demonslayers like eating their death machine for dinner," he said.


End file.
